


Bound To The Watcher

by remarkable1



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Acceptance, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Anal Sex, Asgard (Marvel), Auror Harry Potter, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Dreams, Dreams vs. Reality, Dreamsharing, Erections, Falling In Love, Fate & Destiny, Frottage, Hope, Hopeful Ending, Horny Harry, Horny Heimdall, Interplanetary Travel, Kissing, Loneliness, M/M, Miðgarðr | Midgard, Oaths & Vows, Promises, Rimming, Sex, Soul Bond, Stress Relief
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:40:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26263552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/remarkable1/pseuds/remarkable1
Summary: Harry Potter has felt an empty place inside of him most of his life and been unable to fill it with anyone or anything - until his dreams take him to a place where they literally come true. A second destiny he actually embraces, despite the unknowns of bonding with the Watcher of Asgard.
Relationships: Heimdall (Marvel)/Harry Potter
Comments: 5
Kudos: 135
Collections: Cast the Dice 2020, Marvelously Magical Bingo 2020





	Bound To The Watcher

This fic is a two'fer - written for Facebook Group Marvelously Magical's Bingo 2020, Square B5, Heimdall/Harry Potter. This also fulfills another Facebook Group Challenge for Wizarding Crossover Connection, Cast The Dice 2020. My 8/22/2020 roll scored for the lower section on my Yahtzee card. I chose the trope: Erotic Dreams.

They hadn’t stopped. At first, they were nothing more than pleasant sensations, and Harry woke with slightly more than a standard boner. What was more than standard, you ask? Well, the fact that he was so hard, he wanked himself stupid, and it still wouldn’t go down without a deflating draught. It was as if there was something out there that _could_ satisfy him, but he hadn’t found it yet.

Was this why he was still single in his mid-thirties? It wasn’t as if wizards marrying later in life and starting families up into their seventies or even eighties wasn’t standard. It was … unusual in the wizarding world, but not abnormal. Why not live your life to the fullest, frankly, before settling down?

Yet there was an itch Harry couldn’t scratch. He’d had a go with Ginny that had fallen flat as a stack of pancakes. 

Friends, they remained, as she married another and had hatched a new brood of Weasley babies.

Hermione stayed single, but that was no wonder, considering she had two careers and juggled a large number of voluntary commitments. The witch always had been incredibly driven, and it suited her.

Ron? Well. Being a Quidditch star was something he intended to milk until the end of his career. Still, with his third baby-momma almost due with his fourth child, well, things were looking a little grim in the love department as wary witches demanded condoms and contraceptive charms. Ron claimed fertility turned him on.

Well, so had child support, apparently, as he paid through the nose for each child he sired. To be fair, Ron loved and doted on them all. His latest hair-brained scheme was to get all three witches together and have them live as a foursome, his new goal being the Weasley with the most wives AND children.

Harry wished him luck with that, then stayed far, far away from any food or water Ron drank or ate, in case it was something you could catch.

No kids for him as head Auror right now, thanks-very-much.

Pushing aside his covers, frustrated by the never-ending boner, he immediately took another damn potion that tasted like the hated black licorice and vomit combination. He headed into work, crabbier than ever.

It was time to visit a Dream Healer.

\--

Deep in a trance, Harry reached out to his dreams as the wizard hypnotist guided him through his past few months of experiences. It was highly embarrassing. The confidentiality agreement signed was as binding as a wand oath, which satisfied the picky Auror. Plus, Harry was still a celebrity and in the Prophet quite a bit, commenting on this or that case. He couldn’t afford to be tabloid news.

Reaching deep, more deeply than he’d been before as he’d been afraid to lose control, Harry finally let go and felt himself snap free of his physical body.

He landed in a golden-domed room, feeling his form as he landed lightly as if coming down from a port key, as reliable as he seemed to be in his ‘real’ life.

“Where am I?”

“Asgard,” a no-nonsense, gigantic voice boomed behind him. Whirling, he cast about, almost entirely missing the figure that rose nearly twice his height at the entrance and exit to the dome.

Attempting to draw his wand, he realized he didn’t have it on him and cursed. “Fuck.”

“Later, perhaps. First, I owe you an explanation.”

Ignoring the first, strange part of the response to his cursing, he shrugged and looked around for somewhere to sit.

A bench materialized at one end and non-plussed, Harry took a seat, well aware he was out of his depth here, deciding to play along.

The figure was a dark-skinned man with the most stunning golden eyes Harry had ever seen. When the man took his helmet off, his gaze was even more penetrating. The wizard felt like he could get lost in them forever.

“If I’m dreaming, I never want to come out of this one,” he whispered.

A great, booming chuckle sounded, startling Harry.

“You are not dreaming, although it may seem as such,” the stranger answered.

“I – I’m at my hypnotist’s office. I have to be dreaming.”

“The human mind has such potential, yet has barely reached the single digits in the percentage of its full capabilities. You mortals, limit yourselves to the material. There is more beyond that. So much more.”

“Okay.” Harry took that at face value. He knew, better than anyone he was aware of, perhaps, how dreams could be indications of fortune, foretelling, lies, manipulation, or any number of occurrences in the wizarding world.

If the man seemed puzzled with his easy acceptance, he didn’t indicate. He merely gestured all around him.

“This place you have wandered into is called the Observatory. I am the Watcher for all of the Nine Realms, Keeper of the Sword, and Key to the Bifrost of Asgard, the bridge spanning all of the Nine.”

“Oh. I um, I’ve heard about this place. My friend Hermione was always into arcane legend and lore. Always had her nose in a book, she did,” he chuckled, face sobering when the man merely looked at him curiously.

“Do I appear to be fiction, to you?”

Reaching out tentatively, Harry placed a questioning hand above a powerfully muscled forearm just below the vambrace where dark skin beckoned. Nodding slightly in acquiescence to the mortal, Harry took the cue and forged ahead, sliding his fingertips over the skin, an electric-like touch flowing from his fingertips to his head, heart, and groin.

He snatched back his hand, gasping. “What- what was that? Who are you?”

“That was our connection. I am known as Heimdall. You are Harry Potter, wizard of Midgard.”

“Um, if you mean Earth? Yeah. Yeah, that’s where I live. Our connection?”

“It is a good sign you accept the possibility of such. Four generations have I tried reaching those of your bloodline, with no success. One must be open to communication of this sort for the bond to strengthen.”

“Wait a minute. Slow down. Back up,” Harry said, closing his eyes, feeling lost at how fast this conversation was moving. “Four generations?”

“Yes. My soul, in this Asgardian cycle of life, is bound irrevocably to your human bloodline. I seek only to cement that bond. Long, have I been without a life mate. I cannot settle with just anyone. If I do not bond with one of your line before your children’s children perish, I will be alone until the next cycle. I do not relish the prospect of such a barren existence.”

“Wow. So all that reincarnation stuff is real?”

“Yes. It is a minimal view, but more or less correct in the recycling of the body each spirit goes through. I know not why most spirits inhabiting mortal bodies choose to keep going back to a place laden with strife, difficulty, and brief lifespans. It is also not my place to question it.”

Heimdall allowed Harry to soak in all of this information. He may have been the Watcher, but he could not read minds. A bright hope already flared foolishly in his chest. Would he, at last, be at peace with the one his soul longed for? The Fates demanded satisfaction. He _must_ be successful. Heimdall was the last of his own long, prestigious line. It was paramount he secure his lifemate. Yet, he would not force the young man. If young Harry did not bond himself to Heimdall of his own free will, the bond would not take, and the karmic repercussions would be dire for both of them. The Watcher would not inflict such a terrible fate upon future generations of Potters.

Harry stood and scratched his head, forever pushing his messy black hair out of his eyes. He’d gone to the Muggle world and had laser eye surgery done, so no longer needed glasses, which was a blessing. However, the scar that he’d been gifted by Voldemort as a baby would forever remain as testament to his first, already-fulfilled destiny as the wizarding world’s Chosen One. Was it rare to have it revealed a second lay in his wake?

As if sensing his train of thought, Heimdall looked up but did not pursue Harry as the mortal walked the Observatory's perimeter, not touching anything, clearly schooled in manners and common sense. That boded well for any future offspring they would sire. Of course, they’d need to secure a third. Males, even on Asgard, could not bear offspring, and Heimdall sported no Jotun blood. Many of the ice planet’s species were gender fluid. The only one Heimdall knew of on Asgard was Prince Loki, and the prince had only learned of his own heritage a few decades ago and accepted it even more recently after those same decades of sowing chaos.

“Okay. Um. This is a little out of my reach in the brains department. Still, I’m going to just say you’re real, this is all true, and I have to um, bond with you,” Harry supposed, still thinking hypothetically. 

Already, Heimdall felt the shift from something tenuous take foothold into a more substantial possibility of reality.

The Watcher suppressed a shiver, the growing ache in his loins having been denied for a very, very long time, only willing to release in his own hand or that of his destined mate. How he longed for it, in addition to the companionship, the completeness, and the giving of himself to a new generation of Watchers.

Against his better judgment yet knowing he’d not be fair if not given the young mortal a chance, Heimdall rasped out, “There is something you must know. You do have a choice. I hold much power, Harry Potter. To Lord it over you is … is allowed, but expressly frowned upon. It would not be a true bond if I did not let you choose of your own volition. You may …. Return to Midgard whenever you choose and carry on with your mortal life.”

Harry thought about it and made the full circle, standing in front of the sitting Heimdall, still looking up, the man was so tall, although clearly not as much while seated.

Heimdall’s heart sank. This was it. The chance he’d been waiting for, and it was slipping through his fingers. What a damn fool he was. Odin would mock him privately. The shame was his own, yet he could not bring himself to force another. It was not the Watcher’s way. It never had been, hence why he was worthy of his gifted powers in the first place. He intended to honor them until his last dying breath, Norns willing, that day being very distant from now.

Harry’s soft words surprised him, not something often done by anyone, much less a mortal.

“I accept.”

“You do not have to...”

“I accept,” Harry interrupted again. “Um, but I need to wrap up some things back home. I mean, I’m the head of a law division, and it would disrupt a lot of lives to just disappear, you know?”

He scratched his head again. Heimdall found himself growing fond of the gesture already.

Harry liked this man. He was respectful and assertive, and something within him stirred the wizard like nothing in his life ever had before. It was like a light had come on, and his real purpose was laid before him on a silver platter. Was it too good to be true? Possibly. Harry had long since grown out of his fear of death. His life should have ended as a baby. He never wanted to be the Chosen One.

Yet he had, and he was.

What was one more fantastical occurrence in his already unnatural human life? This would be the ultimate journey of a lifetime, he was sure of it.

“Of course. You have as much time as you need, dear one. It would be … convenient if you lived with me on Asgard, but will always have the choice to reside on Midgard, aware I must maintain my post and vigilance as Gatekeeper at all times.”

“Yeah, well, to be honest? There’s not much holding me at home. My parents have been dead for a very long time. My friends have kind of moved on. I love my life, but I’ve felt empty for ages. This… this feels right. Maybe I’m crazy, but I believe you. And… I feel like I already know you.”

“You do,” Heimdall whispered, amazed at the blessing this young mortal was gifting him with. “You are the mate of my soul, my bonded to be. We shall procure a mate of our choosing and share her to breed our young. I will teach you the Watcher's ways, or the Warrior, or find a worthy teacher to expand your mystical knowledge. Whatever you choose, shall be.”

“That sounds great.”

Mundane as the reply was, it made Heimdall’s heart soar like nothing else.

“Come to me. Let us seal our union with a promise.”

Harry felt awkward, moving forward into the giant’s arms. This was going to be … interesting. He wondered what his therapist was thinking. “Am I like, here right now?” he asked as Heimdall lifted him as if he weighed nothing, by the waist, setting him on his knee.

Heimdall chuckled. “Yes. Your …. Mind Healer, you think you are with? Is frantic with worry. You transported here through free will and perhaps, a bit of divine intervention,” he conceded.

“I don’t want him to worry too much.”

“He will not. I have already sent word.”

Harry would ask later how in the world that was possible, but right now, he was enthralled by the heady scent of this man – God? – that stared adoringly into his eyes.

Heimdall closed them and concentrated, shrinking himself a bit to a size that fit Harry a lot better.

“Wow, neat trick.”

“I do not wish to harm you. My Godly form is not yet compatible with your mortal one. I could easily damage you.”

“Yeah, um, thanks for that? I guess?”

“You are amusing, young one. Now, will you promise me? You will return?”

“Yeah. How?”

The kiss was everything Heimdall had ever imagined, and nothing Harry could have ever dreamed of.

Speaking of dreams, that erotic submission that roared through him, the itch never satisfied, consumed him body and soul when Heimdall’s lips descended upon his own.

Instantly erect, Harry whimpered into the God’s mouth, exchanging a hot, heavy kiss, strong arms wrapped around him, now embracing him as Harry moved to straddle Heimdall’s thighs. To his surprise, the armor was gone, replaced with a simple tunic.

“Much easier than fighting with metal, do you not agree?” Heimdall purred into his ear.

Harry just nodded, eager to return to that feeling of Heaven. He shyly, helplessly pressed his erection into Heimdall’s belly as the bigger man embraced him again, kissing down his neck, tearing his robes off and shirt open. “I am sorry, I cannot wait,” he hissed, “Please tell me you want this. That you want me. I must have you.”

“Oh, God, please!” Harry begged, humping lightly against the washboard abs of this glorious man.

“I will prepare you.”

Their surroundings faded again, and Harry found himself in a bed surrounded by silks and cushions and a fountain that tinkled merrily off to one side, a slight chill in the air as an open window let in a breeze.

“My chambers within the palace,” Heimdall intoned, then fell to work licking, sucking, kissing and teasing the mortal until Harry was ripe for him, aching and ready to take the thick member now bare to him.

It was intimidating. “I – I’ve never had one that big – in my – you know,” Harry blushed.

“I will never heart you, my bond-mate. Please, trust me. I will pleasure you beyond your wildest imaginings.”

Placing his full measure of trust in the God, as he hadn’t let him down yet, Harry bent down and presented himself to Heimdall as the big man had placed him on hands and knees. He felt so exposed, embarrassed, but as soon as the black-whiskered jaw hit his anus, his eyes fluttered shut in bliss.

“Oh, God!” he moaned.

Heimdall clearly had experience with this sort of thing. Harry had never felt such expertise blessing his rim, a very talented tongue bringing him to the edge more than once and backing off. When Heimdall added one thick finger to his ass than two and three, he was arching, panting, begging for more.

At last, when he thought he was going to die with want, the thick, oiled head of Heimdall’s cock rubbed over Harry’s pucker, and with a grunt, the black man was seated inside of him partway.

“Shit!” Harry yelled, spurting helplessly over the silks below him, his dick pumping and coming, untouched, balls clenching and unclenching.

When he was finished, wrung out, Heimdall leaned over him, kissing little bites up his spine, hand coming around to wave in a circle, cleaning up the mess with a whispered, simple spell, then gently touched, rubbed, and teased Harry’s prick until the wizard was hard again in no time at all.

He’d not moved in all that time. Harry _ached_ for more.

“Please, Heimdall, please, move. Fuck me.”

“Oh, my brave, bold, beautiful little mortal. Feel what it is to lay under a God, your bond-mate, and let us promise ourselves to one another.”

Carefully, Heimdall _made love_ to Harry, moving gently, moaning and grunting, kissing, licking, and murmuring filthy, lovely things in Harry’s ear until he was ready to spurt again. Holding the tip of his cock, Heimdall denied him the orgasm threatening to burst.

Feeling his own release tingling down his spine, Heimdall asked, “Would you like more, little one? Would you like your God to fuck you properly and release in your backside as a bonding gift?”

“Please!” Harry begged.

Without further ado, Heimdall let loose the many years of self-denial and poured on the power, still mindful that smaller Harry was not yet strengthened by an Apple of Idunn and could still break easily. Still, the stimulation was enough to satisfy him, and it didn’t take long for him to catch up with his little, lovely mortal mate-to-be.

“You are divine, little one. I will grace you with my spend, and you shall be stronger for it. I will return you to Midgard, and when you are ready, I will bring you back to Asgard. You will be _mine,”_ he emphasized, thrusting and groaning sloppily at the end as he let go of Harry’s tip, both of them coming at the same time, Harry into Heimdall’s big fist and Heimdall into Harry’s tight ass.

Jamming up against his prostate, Harry literally saw stars and came harder than he ever had in his life.

When he was finished, he felt Heimdall slip wetly from his ass, the copious amounts of fluid leaking from him like the fountain that kept flowing nearby.

Heimdall was quick to clean them both.

They were silent as they dressed and returned magically to the Observatory.

Solemnly, Heimdall drew a ring from a breast pocket beneath his newly-donned armor.

“Wear this with pride. It was my fathers and his fathers before him. I bequeath it to you, my bond-mate. The mate of my soul. Return to my, Harry Potter of Midgard, and be mine.”

“I promise I will. This, I do swear.”

Magic swirled around the pair, sealing the deal and leaving Heimdall’s heart a good deal happier that the wizard had sworn a binding oath, settling the God’s worry that he would change his mind and take the ring with him, not that he couldn't get it back. But it would break his heart if he had to.

With a fiery kiss, Heimdall bid farewell to his life’s love and sighed, returning his eyes to the stars where he would watch, wait, and plan for his bond-mate's future, their unknown, chosen female, and the future offspring she would bear them.

“So mote it be,” he murmured into the night sky.


End file.
